Six ways of saying goodbye
by magical realism
Summary: Sequel to Six conversations. The reactions to Jade West's death.


Six ways of saying good bye

Number one:

Anger flashed inside Beck Oliver like a knife, hot and sharp in his chest. The love of his life was a corpse. He was staring into her unblinking eyes, fully aware that she would never get up and greet him, ask him how his day was, or make jokes. Not today and not ever again. He wished he still had the red indentation from the slap she delivered to his face that morning. It was something to remember her by, proof that she had lived. Beck continued to stare, he had to come to terms that she had done everything for the last time that day, poured her cereal, checked her phone, driven a car. He also had to come to terms with the rage inside him. His anger stemmed from his suspicion that she had known it was her last time. Her cold eyes looked at him, mocking him for still existing, for being such a bad boyfriend that he couldn't have stopped this. He never thought Jade West could be so cruel. He finally let himself think that thought that was overpowering the rest of his mind; _it's not fair_.

Number two:

"Aah-ah-ee-uh." Was the only sound Tori Vega could make. It was like all the air had been knocked out of her, like she had been sucker-punched in the gut. Tori nervously locked and unlocked her phone screen as she contemplated the message she had just heard. "Tori Vega? This is Jade West's mother. She's dead." It was short and to the point, no hello, no goodbye. She rasped for air in her empty house, wishing her mother would come home and wrap her into a warm hug. Tori wiped her cheeks, an instinct, because her face was dry. Was she really that cruel? Could she not shed a single tear for a fallen friend? She could, of course, but water didn't seem to do her relationship with Jade justice. Tori thought of all the sharp barbs she and Jade had traded over the last year and felt a wave of guilt wash over her body, so far the only water-related feeling she had felt. Tori sat on her red couch to collect herself, but her emotions were scattered, she felt deep inside herself and shutout at the same time. She mused over the fact that Jade had been sitting on the couch with her only a few hours ago. Tori remembered her being very un-Jade-like. Her soft tone, their messy goodbye, it was as if Jade was giving up. Tori realized that just before she died, Jade had let Tori Vega win. Tori suddenly realized the connection between those two events. No hug was warm enough to relieve her anguish.

Number three:

He was testing out his new red keyboard when he heard the news, his hands rested heavily on the ivory keys, making a _**"plink"**_ sound and almost awakening his grandmother. "No." He tried to speak, but his words came out dry. "No." He repeated, as if his rejection of the fact would suddenly make it false. Jade West was dead. Tears began to fall from his eyes, his face tingling, his hands never leaving the keyboard. The one she had bought him, hours ago. It felt like a lifetime ago. Andre Harris got up from his position on his bed and started to pace. Panic ripped through him as he tried to come to terms with his loss. His loss? It was a strange thing to say, in his head, it had been Jade that had suffered the loss. Collapsing on your bedroom floor, soaked in vodka, didn't seem like an accident to him. Andre's chest hurt and he continued to let the tears flow, breathing so heavily it was a wonder he didn't receive calls of disturbance from the neighbors. She would come to school tomorrow, she would tease and taunt her friends, she would sing in that sweet voice of hers. She had to, because otherwise he couldn't.

Number four:

"Dead as in doornail?" Cat Valentine asked innocently as she sat on her bed before school, swinging out her legs like a child. "Well, yeah." Responded Jade's mother, the kind women who would often comfort Cat when she got homesick during Cat and Jade's sleepover's, a common occurrence in grammar school. Cat noticed Mrs. West's red eyes and sickly pale coloring, she was shocked to see the usually put together women appear so disheveled. "So, you're never going to see her again. Do you… understand?" Her voice was weak as she tried to explain the situation to Cat. "Yes I understand!" Screamed Cat, her temper flaring, her signature ditz act gone. "My best friend is _dead_. No _shit_ I'm never going to see her again." Pink rushed to Cat's cheeks, her body was hot and she shook almost violently. Cat stood up quickly, ready to confront Mrs. West for her patronizing tone. "Oh, head rush!" she giggled, leaning on her nightstand for support. "Don't talk to me like that, of course I understand. Who doesn't understand death? No one! Well, babies, I guess. But I am not a baby, Mrs. West!" Cat wasn't surprised when Mrs. West didn't respond, she only held her finger to her lips to quite down the disturbed child. "Don't shoot the messenger." She laughed weakly and motioned that she would be showing herself out. Cat could almost sense her broken heart as she glided out of Cat's colorful room. _How could you_. She felt like screaming. And once she heard the door shut, she did.

Number five:

Robbie Shapiro felt like an idiot. Well, even more than usual and that alone was saying something. But Jade West had the power to make him feel like an idiot. Even while she lay still in a morgue. He still couldn't believe she had died, died by her own hands. He also couldn't believe her friends were in school, bantering and chatting as if a face wasn't missing. Of course, signs were there, Cat's smeared makeup, Andre's silence, and Beck's absence. Tori Vega was still acting her heart out on stage, doing a rather cheerful monologue. He wondered what the others' were feeling, anger, betrayal, sadness, hurt, confusion. He knew that summed up their first day without her in a nutshell. All he was feeling was some kind of twisted version of disgust. Their last conversation, her tearing him a new one, telling him to man-up, and she hadn't. She had given up on everything, she had abandoned her friends and boyfriend and family, refused to see the happiness in the world. And he was the scared one? No, he wasn't, not anymore, and maybe that was kind of the point.

Number six:

Trina Vega was still dealing with the fact that she was the last person to see Jade West alive. She didn't even like Jade and Jade had made it perfectly clear that the feelings of distaste were mutual. Why would Jade come and see her anyway? She was finishing up her weekly tutoring session at Hollywood Arts when Jade had burst in and demanded some kind of clarification on her opinion of her. Trina had been stunned, but afterwards, her head was cleared. Yesterday she thought she was better than Jade West. Today she felt sick, like she didn't deserve to feel like that. Not for a fallen friend, not for a fallen Jade. Trina would make it up to her, she would. Even if Jade's friends, family, and boyfriend didn't want to face reality, she would. Jade West wasn't coming back, but she could be remembered, she could be celebrated. And she would be. Trina stomped out of her dance class with forceful determination.

Number seven:

There were more than six candles placed on the front steps of Hollywood Arts. And they were all for Jade West. Tori Vega patted Beck Oliver on the back and Cat Valentine cried into Robbie Shapiro's shoulder. A slight wind blew as the mourners stood in stony silence. She died because she thought she was nothing, but she was something. Anyone who could draw this crowd to mourn their death was something. Jade West's father continued to watch the students for a few more moments before pulling away in his car. He let tears fall along with her classmates. They missed his baby, and it was all his fault.


End file.
